olio n. (OH-lee-oh): a miscellaneous mixture; a hodgepodge

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I recently saw a post on Facebook sharing a husband’s absolute adoration of his wife. They had just had a baby and were basically living in the NICU. His wife was in school and at the times their baby was sleeping she was writing papers for her classes, and he was in awe of what she was able to handle. I myself was in awe of her. I cannot imagine what it must be like to have your little baby need to be in the hospital for a long period of time, and basically living there with them while also trying to stay focused in school (or work if that is what you need to do).

Reading this on Facebook and reading a book on gratitude made me think about Chris and how hard it would be to do all this pregnant business without his daily help. There are some days that I come home from work and am extremely tired. I guess that is a given for being 34 weeks pregnant. When we come home from work the first thing I need is help taking my shoes and pants off (by the end of the day I cannot wait to take my clothes off). The second thing I usually need is food. Yesterday for example I was starving, and immediately he helped me get into comfy clothes and then made me toast — my go-to snack these days.

Then there is the most recent shift in my body. I can feel my pelvis shifting, an odd sensation, but what is more alarming is that when I get up literally every hour to pee, my body feels unmovable in bed. I have to wake him up and have him help me sit up, stand, and walk me to the bathroom. Without his assistance, I cannot get out of bed, and there have been numerous occasions recently where when I have stood up I start to collapse because of the pelvic pain. Ah, the wonders of pregnancy.

Now you might be reading this and say yes this is part of pregnancy — and you would be right. I am not complaining. I am acknowledging his patience and sharing my gratitude for an amazing husband who 99% of the time never complains. Yes, lately he says how tired he is because he has gotten up so many times in the middle of the night, and I say: “Save it. This is what I have been doing since last April.” Regardless, he has been my crutch, my shoulder, my lotion-to-belly applier, the one who dresses me, and even the one that lifts me out of the car when I get stuck, and most importantly my cheerleader.

While I will not lie, women are amazing. I do not know a man who could make it through 10 months of pregnancy. Yet, we sometimes forget that there are men that rub our backs, our feet, and tell us what troopers we are. Sure we are doing the heavy lifting, but it sure helps to have someone who keeps the rest of your world going. Thank you, Chris.

A few years ago, Chris and I used to live near a Krispy Kreme. It was literally down the street. I can remember a specific week when we both had overlapping bouts of the flu. During my turn, all I wanted was pumpkin spice donuts and a Slurpee from 7 Eleven. Strange, right? For some reason it was the only thing that sounded good. A sugar coma to get me through the flu.

Yesterday we were visiting a furniture store near Krispy Kreme, and being that I am very pregnant, it is fall, and I want all things pumpkin I asked Chris to stop by Krispy Kreme for pumpkin spice donuts. We go through the drive thru – thinking it is a simple order. We tell her my order of 2 donuts and Chris’ order of 2 donuts. Two times she repeats it incorrectly and we correct her. She tells us to go to the window. We drive up, and since we did not have cash, we pay with a credit card.

Chris gives me the receipt and I look and we’ve been charged for 6 donuts. Ugh. Somehow we knew this would happen when she could not get the order right at the intercom. Our credit card had already been charged. We tell them it was not what we ordered, and we only wanted the four donuts. She stands there and does not know what to do. I am exhausted, need a snack, and am ready to go home. Normally, I would not make a big deal out of it, but I do not want 6 donuts (because I know Chris won’t be able to resist eating them).

She goes and gets someone to help her and a guy comes to the window. He says: “I do not know how to refund your order.” He then says, “Can I give you a latte instead?” I lose it. I already had a coffee and it is visible in my cup holder. I say, “No I do not want a latte, I want my four donuts and I want to pay for only four. How hard it is to put a refund through?” Chris then says, “How about you just give me the difference in cash?” The guys says: “Okay, that would be $1.60.”

Why, oh, why does the customer have to tell the cashier “how” to give a refund? I still am not convinced (not that I ultimately really care) that we actually got back what we should have back. The receipt said:

1 ASST 1/2 DZ
$6.95

Then at the bottom says: Combo donuts – $1.15. No where does it say the cost of the actual donut. I think because they charged for 1/2 dozen there might have been a deal and the guy had no idea how to break it apart? Or, here is a thought. Refund the original order and ring it up as it should have been? Wow. No brainer right?

In the end, all could have been avoided if she just read the order to us prior to taking our card and swiping it.

Have you ever thought about bread? I mean really thought about it? Before my pregnancy, I rarely ate bread. Occasionally we would have some at a restaurant, or at someone’s house, but generally speaking we did not have bread in the house. I have always (and still do) feel like bread is a filler food. I am one that believes that we should always fill our bodies with food that is fuel. Such as vegetables and fruit.

Until being pregnant. Now I cannot get enough bread. I have had a few cravings. Nothing too exciting. Chex-Mix, animal crackers, and for the entire pregnancy I have wanted bread. In the form of toast, sandwiches, and pizza. It is the only thing that ever sounds good. My OB said that my appetite would come back in the second trimester. It has not. Nothing ever sounds good. I never really am interested in eating. Except I know when I need to. When I start to get nausea (although I never had morning sickness) I know it is time for a snack or a meal. When that happens I only want bread.

It is comfort food. If you think about it, we have the option for bread in many different meals, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, in different cultures (roti, naan, flatbread, to name a few). Now we even have gluten-free. You can have it plain, or toppings galore. I remember as a young child when I did not feel well, or when I wanted a treat, my grandma would make me toast with sugar and cinnamon sprinkled on top. My dad loved peanut butter on his toast, my mom loved apple butter. At the moment, in the middle of this pregnancy, I want jelly. There have been times though when all I wanted on my toast was melted butter.

Now bread has become a phenomenon via the not so new culinary concept of “toast.” In San Francisco and New York you can find menu items such as buttered toast for $4. Yes. Maybe it is on high quality brioche, but still. I might sound like my grandma but I can almost get a loaf for that amount. In any case, bread, toast, what have you, it is my comfort food of choice as I ease into my third trimester.